


Choices

by Gynedroid



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gynedroid/pseuds/Gynedroid
Summary: Prompt gift for the wonderful @LilithKBArt (twitter) / https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithK , about their OC Lynnae Cousland and Nathaniel Howe.I have a weakness for Nathaniel Howe pining for Couslands, alright.After a particularly nasty battle with darkspawn, Lynnae and her Wardens are running about the town, trying to fix the various problems that had caught up in its wake. But Nathaniel manages to catch Lynnae alone in an abandoned building, and choses that moment to finally confront her about a rising problem.
Relationships: Cousland/Nathaniel Howe, Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe, Nathaniel Howe/Female Warden
Kudos: 16





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilithK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithK/gifts).



“Commander!”

Nathaniel hadn’t meant for his voice to come out so sharply, but the stress of the day was beginning to wear on him, it seemed. Even Lynnae seemed surprised, turning to look at him, wariness lining her features. “Nathaniel, please,” she said quietly. “Can this wait? I’ve a lot to take care of.”

“Are you going to put yourself on that list?”

Her eyes hardened. “We’re not having this conversation again, Nathaniel, not when there’s things that need doing, so-”

“All _due_ respect, commander, we’ve long since passed the point where that excuse is acceptable.” 

The words hung in the air, an increasing chill accompanying them. Lynnae’s face cracked for a moment, frustrations creasing her forehead, and sadness filling her eyes. A moment later and her and the vulnerability had vanished, quickly suppressed into her normally stoic expression. A pang of guilt surged into Nathaniel; hadn’t he hurt her enough?

“Nathaniel-”

“Lynnae, you’re running yourself ragged,” he pressed, voice softer. 

Bright green eyes crinkled faintly, teasing. “Haven’t you been told about our Grey Warden stamina? I could be up for days yet and not keel over.” 

“That doesn’t mean you should,” he said quietly, stepping closer into her personal space. 

She gave him a wary look but for all that her strength and endurance far outstripped Nathaniel’s, his speed was unrivaled. A quick hand snapped passed her defenses, gently poking her in the side. And despite how softly he’d touched her, pain flooded her expression. The most fearsome warrior he’d ever seen flinched hard, practically driven to her knees. 

Once again, he’d caused her pain, but in this case, Nathaniel would allow himself to feel no remorse. He watched her, carefully, and her abashed expression was concession enough. He offered her a hand back up and she took it. He tried to ignore the tingles shooting through his fingers at the contact, and if his touch lingered a moment longer than necessary, she graciously ignored it. 

“You never got that healed, did you?”

She took a moment to recover her breath, then waved a dismissive hand. “It’s just a nasty knock,” she lied blatantly. “Anders can see to it later. He’s a little busy healing those that need it more. Now. Are we done here?”

“You shouldn’t keep putting yourself in harm’s-”

Her stoic expression snapped, anger and frustration once again surging through her expression without reserve. “Every hit I take is one someone else doesn’t have to, Nathaniel,” she reminded him, a rippling power in her words, reminding him he wasn’t just facing Lady Carrot-top, childhood rival and former unwilling and unwanted fiance, but Commander Lynnae Cousland, Hero of Ferelden. She held his gaze for a moment, expression stern, but Nathaniel wouldn’t back down so easily. “Believe it or not, I’m tougher than you think, Warden. This is fine.”

“That would be difficult to achieve, as I already think you’re one of the toughest people I’ve had the good fortune to know,” Nathaniel pointed out, and despite herself, her eyes crinkled with mirth, lips trembling in an effort not to grin. He was caught for a moment, at that smile trying not to form, beautiful green eyes full of so much life and energy and good cheer, when she let her guard down. “But even dashing heroines need breaks, and healing.”

It was dangerous how easily Lynnae blushed, Nathaniel mused, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest, the squeezing of his heart. He had to acknowledge that his rising feelings for his former fiancé were getting difficult to manage. But they were also, assuredly, unwelcome. “Please. At least let me help put some elfroot poultice on that, Lynnae. These people need you at your best.”

She huffed in frustration, but finally sighed, nodding tightly. At his gesture she sat down, and while he rummaged through his pack to pull out his jar of poultice, he was confronted with another conundrum; the nature of her injury meant she’d have to remove her armor and at least partly lift her undershirt. Apparently she realized it the same time as he did; their eyes met, and quickly looked away from each other in embarrassment. 

“I need to be able to get to your injury,” he reminded her faintly, and with another huffed sigh and rosy cheeks, she began removing her chestplate. 

Piece by piece she stripped her heavy armor, falling to the ground with reverberating clunks. Her muscular frame spoke of her power, and he’d seen her in combat enough to never take her lightly. His heart beat faster, seeing past the armor, at the softer woman underneath. Vibrant red hair he’d once mocked, framing a beautiful face with bright green eyes and a sweet smile, a presence that uplifted those around her. 

She welcomed monsters, thieves, and murderers into her ranks with open arms, no matter what harm they did her, and made them better people, better than they thought they were. A woman who sometimes could be rather naïve about the cruelty of the world, despite all she’d been through. It was the characteristic he most admired and despaired of in her, that she would open herself up to harm, again and again, never thinking twice, or letting reasonable suspicion give her pause. 

Given a choice, Lynnae always chose to love.

How could he not want to bask in the warmth of her eclectic family, to be welcomed into her circle? Nathaniel knew he didn’t belong, but she’d given him a place anyway, despite how monstrous his father was, how cruel he personally had been to her, as a child. But Lynnae didn’t let that stop her. She treated him as if he were worthy, a good person, and he longed to be the person he saw reflected in her eyes. 

“I suppose you need my shirt off, too,” Lynnae murmured uncomfortably, cheeks increasingly heating under Nathaniel’s gaze, and he was shaken back to the present. 

“Ah. I mean. You don’t have to take it off, just - just lift it enough I can get to the bruise,” he responded quickly, hating that he’d made her so uncomfortable. 

She sucked in a breath and nodded, carefully lifting the edges of her shirt. An ugly purple welt lashed across her side, and Nathaniel hissed with displeasure. “Oh come on, am I that ugly?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“You are beautiful, but that wound is ugly,” Nathaniel murmured offhand, quickly scooping in his jar. He felt her eyes on him, staring, cutting into his soul, and he looked up in askance, before realizing her face was quite red, at this point. He traced his words back, and felt his own cheeks heat, but to acknowledge it would be worse. “Tell me if this hurts,” he diverted instead, awkward and suddenly feeling like he was a fumbling fool.

She nodded, and gently he rubbed the poultice on her wound, and while she winced at first, the numbing soon took hold. As he worked, he kept flickering a glance to her face, pleased to see the tension slowly drain, the lines of worry and pain that creased her eyes relaxing. Her cheeks, however, remained a rosy red, matching her hair and provoking rising feelings in Nathaniel he worked increasingly hard to suppress. 

Tracing his fingers along her skin was giving her goosebumps, he saw, though clearly that was just a reaction to the tingling of a healing poultice doing its work. But while he knew he should focus on helping her, on healing her, knew it was inappropriate to allow his own cursed feelings to rise, he could do little to suppress it. Dreams of touching her, of embracing her, of holding her close, with no wounds or armor between them kept bubbling forth as he worked, gently rubbing the poultice into her side. 

But no. His idiot childhood self and monster of a father had already ensured his rising feelings would only be rightfully spurned, if they were ever known.

Besides. Lynnae had already had her heart broken, by that fool of a king. She deserved happiness, and a whole man of warm heart and no ugly past, or shameful blood. 

He’d not let her be hurt again for all the world, and that included protecting her from the uglier elements who might hurt her. Men like him. 

She deserved better than anything he could offer her.

He swallowed, surprised to discover a lump in his throat, even as he finished bandaging her up. “How’s that?” he asked quietly, unwilling to meet her eyes, for fear of her seeing right through him, and realizing his shameful feelings. 

“It’s - it’s a lot better, thank you,” she said quickly, and for a moment, he couldn’t resist, stealing a glance. 

He regretted it almost immediately, feeling lost as he stared into her eyes, wide and searching, kinder than he deserved. “I’m - I’m glad,” he said quietly. 

“Thanks for-”

“Thank you-”

They both broke off, chuckling, a bit of the tension cut. “What are you thanking me, for, Nathaniel? You’re the one who's helping me.”

“For _letting_ me help, Lynnae,” he said quietly, smile warming his face. “You try to take so much on your own, spend all your time helping others - it’s just, nice you’ll let me help you, too.”

A smile filled her expression then, bright and warm and inviting, her whole face glowing with that same welcoming kindness he kept being drawn to, again and again, moth to her flame. 

Given a choice, Lynnae always chose to love. 

But Nathaniel Howe no longer had a choice in the matter.


End file.
